


Kise's Tattoo

by TheAnderfelsOne



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, inspired by picture on tumblr, pre-AoKise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-08 12:06:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11646225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAnderfelsOne/pseuds/TheAnderfelsOne
Summary: Kise sports a tattoo on his right shoulder. Beautiful but peculiar. Small, but nontheless rising confusion that turns to questions - questions with answers bigger than what Aomine thought he could handle...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this picture](https://annissarh.tumblr.com/post/163443834461/so-odd-it-had-been-a-year-now-since-aomine-had)

So odd.

It had been a year now since Aomine had seen the tattoo on Kise’s right shoulder; The boy asking them to keep it a secret so to not get into too much trouble, and explaining how some member of his family was a professional tattoo artist and he actually found it pretty cool, blah, blah, blah, hey have you noticed the new history teacher looks squinty.  

And though Kise brushed off the topic with the same skill he brushed off his persistent fans, Aomine had always found it weird, and now - one year later after spending so much time with the blond model - more than ever.

He couldn’t think of a reason why a fourteen years old boy would want a tattoo unless he was some delinquent or freaking yakuza. And all of that was laughable because Kise was more akin to join a cooking club than the above.

Aomine knew tattoos were getting popular within the teenagers lately. Though the restrictions of some public pools were still abided, the power forward knew that tattoos were losing their ‘outlaw’ nature with the spreading of the western fashion. But it was still something infrequent and Kise of all people having one was something he would never have expected.

Kise, whom he recently found out he couldn’t pierce his other ear because he couldn’t take the pain! Now what kind of bull was that?!

“Aominecchi?”

Aomine snapped back to reality. “Huh?”

“The class-president said she wanted to speak with me before leaving. Can you wait for me by the gate? I’m won’t be long.” he flashed his usual smile, already back in his Teikō sweater and slacks.

Aomine didn’t need to ease the frown that formed while he’d been deep in thoughts. “Haah? What a pain, do I look like I enjoy waiting, Kise?”

The blond boy rounded his honey orbs and jutted his lower lip. “Please~, I promise I’ll be quick!”

Now how can this guy be part of some gang seriously?  

And damn his puppy-eyed look by the same way. “Fiine. Just hurry up, I’m starving,” the dark-haired boy sighed. It made Kise perk up and add more bounce in his gait as he skipped out the locker rooms.

Aomine cast a glance around and noticed that no one else was around anymore but their captain. He regarded Akashi changing out of his jersey for a minute before deciding to speak up. “Don’t you find it weird?”

Akashi turned his head around. “What is?”

“Kise’s tattoo.” Aomine shut his locker with a resounding clang and faced Akashi with a frown. “I mean, I know for a fact he couldn’t handle the pain of a single hole in his earlobe. So how does someone like him agree on a tattoo like that?”

No matter how small it was, it stayed a very - beautifully - intricate, black dragon that for sure reckoned a lot of needling time.

And why even a dragon? Aomine really thought he knew the blond very well by now; and a bold _dragon_ was again, something he didn’t expect from Kise at all.

Akashi stared at his teammate with impassive eyes for a moment until he finally said “I find it odd too.”

Aomine let his shoulders slump with a long-drawn sigh. “ _Thank you_. I mean, this is so weird! And the more I know about him the more I think it’s so…”

“Unlike him?”

Aomine shifted his gaze downward. “Mm.”

Akashi started buttoning his blue shirt. “You and Kise are very close. Can’t you speak to him about it if you feel like that?”

Aomine blurted out, “I did! He keeps rewinding the same vague explanation about model friends, chill parents and cool stuff.”

“Perhaps it’s just that.”

Aomine looked dejected. Then he picked up his bag. “I know him,” he groused grumpily under the scrutiny of Akashi’s singular, scarlet orbs. “He’s… he’s sensitive despite his smug and pestering attitude sometimes. Akashi, you think you have the power to find out more about this?”

Akashi gauged Aomine for a few seconds as the latter was waiting for an answer while biting the inside of his cheek and looking sideway as if plunged in another round of thoughts.

“I will see what I can do,” let out the small captain.

He saw the tiny exhale the ace was holding and he finally moved toward the exit. “Thanks, Akashi.” 

  

It wasn’t until a week later that Akashi called Aomine during lunch break to a secluded spot beneath the second floor stairway.

Akashi began with “I found something.”

The tan boy’s heart literally skipped a beat from the anticipation. “A—about…”

“Yes. I preferred to ask the right hand of my father. He was always kind to me and thrust-worthy so…”

“So?”

“So there’s something.”

Aomine held his next breath.

“A private circle. Composed of select business men, head of companies, even a some politicians. It is as much highly regarded as it is reserved. And Kaname-san told me they’re rumored to have a tradition within their membership—”

Aomine’s shoulders drooped in utter despondency. “Are you going to tell me this is about yakuza and now you’ll have to tell Kise to the principle?”

“They are not yakuza. They are… a tight-knit club; whose members have to show their commitment and trust in a special way if they want to benefit from the high advantages of that club.”

Two deep wrinkles started to show between Aomine’s eyebrows and the boy began to sound restless. “What does all this stuff has to do with _Kise_ , Akashi?”

Akashi, composed and unruffled responded “It’s just a rumor but they say the members of that circle have to tattoo one of their children with the symbol of their club.”

That stunned Aomine into silence. The hands that had started to ball up in impatience slacking to his sides.

“And the symbol of that club is known to be a black dragon.”

After that, Aomine stayed quiet for a second more before letting out, “Kise’s father, Kise told me he was business man.”

Akashi was still standing straight and collected but with his next words, Aomine could swear his eyes displayed disappointment.

“He’s the vice-president.”

 

_“So it is a yakuza group after all! Getting tattoos to show their commitment - where’s the difference?!”_

_“Kaname-san said the club is very known and accessible to many non-members. This… tradition is for select members who wish to gain more power in the business world.”_

_“You’re telling me this tradition isn’t shady as hell?”_

_“They do not partake in criminal or unlawful affairs like yakuza groups. Their business is… how did he put it… world-class exclusive. They don’t need to fear or hide, Aomine. They’re politicians and leaders of affluent companies. The door to their club is constantly open to the public eye.”_

Aomine’s knee jiggled. He was waiting with his knuckles against his mouth and an officially justified scowl.

“Aomine-kun.”

Aomine lifted his head. “Tetsu, finally.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Kuroko said politely as he walked the few steps left between them. Aomine pushed himself from the low, stony wall he was sitting on and stuffed his hands in his black jacket.

“It’s fine, I just got here too, let’s go?”

“Yes.”

He picked a Saturday night. Where he knew every shop in Ginza would be teeming with patrons and the streets pulsing with people. He couldn’t take Satsuki with him for this. He didn’t even share what he and Akashi found out about Kise with her. He knew her reaction would be too hectic and troublesome and he needed to keep a cool head in this.

He also couldn’t do what he planned to do alone. As determined as he was in his plan, something about the whole affair was nerve-wrecking and Aomine was too young to deal with the secret side of a business club alone.  

But ultimately, he didn’t want to drag Satsuki in this fishy matter _as a girl_.

But telling Tetsu was as safe as telling the funeral urn of his grandfather on his grandparents’ mantle.

Perhaps even safer.

“So, Aomine-kun, what do you plan to do?”

Aomine breathed out a puff of cool air and stated, “I checked out the place and its surrounding as I told you. The guys I questioned told me there was two backdoors. One large enough for the food trucks and a small door located in an alley that the cooking staff uses to toss the garbage and sometimes take a smoke.”

“I suppose we’re using that one?”

“That’s what I thought at first, but when they’re loading food supplies from that bigger backdoor, there’s a lot of bustle with all the people unloading and accounting. And those very bribable guys said they’ll be a delivery of sugar tonight. What I’m hoping is to be able to sneak in in the middle of that.”

They crossed at the green light and kept on walking amidst the throng of pedestrians highlighted by the iridescent beams and strobes of billboards and advertising screens. “By the way, thank you for the money, Tetsu. I couldn’t have gotten that info with my allowance alone. Those damn crooks.”

“It’s no problem, Aomine-kun. After all, you said Kise-kun could be in danger.”

Aomine drew his brows downward. “Did I say ‘in danger’? Well, heck I don’t know. But there’s definitely something sketchy about this story. I did some internet digging on my own too.”

“And did you find something?” Kuroko wondered beside him.

Aomine narrowed his eyes. “Not enough. But I did find out one thing for sure about that dear Sedokai club, and that one of their logos is just like the dragon on Kise’s shoulder.”

The teal-haired boy shifted his gaze upward at his friend. “… Aomine-kun, and what about that children thing?”

“There’s nothing about it,” said Aomine, “but it was Akashi who found that info, you know? And there’s a reason I trusted him with this.”

_“I didn’t want ask my father directly in case there was more to this. Like being involved too.”_

“I trust that guy’s gut.”

 

The Sedokai club was incased in a tall, sophisticated building that unlike most premises and establishments, displayed no adds or neon announcements. Just a circle shaped, stony structure that looked like the Wako store.

They didn’t linger at the front of the building though, and quickly skittered to the back where as per the crooked informant’s saying, the doors should be wide open to accost the conveyance.

“You were right, Aomine-kun,” Kuroko said after a while of watching from a distance, when a truck arrived at the doors.

Aomine adjusted his baseball cap with determined eyes. “Okay, I’ll try to blend in, I’m sure you’ll find no problem getting in though, right?”

Kuroko shot him a tiny smile. “I hope so.”

“Let’s hope this shit work, or I’ll lose faith in all those spy flicks I watched so far.”

Aomine adjusted his cap and waited until there was enough hustle and bustle to walk right by the site and blend in with the workers. His taller than average allure helped him pass as one of them and he quickly tried to grab a crate of something to have a reason to make his way inside.

Once he padded to the large, covered garage-like area with a bunch of other workers, he spotted Kuroko waiting behind a row of piled up stocks. The door at the end of the wall opened and Aomine knew it was his way inside the club. The man exiting it was calling on some superior of his and Aomine watched as Kuroko acquiesced in his direction once before making to the door and managing to slip inside.

The man who opened it in the first place was done shouting his question and quickly returned back, shutting the door behind him. Aomine fixed it with a frown before he saw it open back, only this time, slower and much more quietly.

Aomine sighed in gratefulness.

He found himself in the kitchens.

He shared a look with his shadow and shed their coat and jacket to reveal white dress shirts. Something Aomine had planned when he knew his layout started from the kitchens; and thanks to his informant, he came prepared with the proper outfit to blend in.

The kitchens for one were a huge place; with people flitting about everywhere, carrying catered dishes, decking out plates to go and washing tons of crockery. All the staff was wearing white dress shirts under the occasional aprons, so it made it easy for Aomine and Kuroko to skitter through the bustle in the direction of the double doors they spotted at one end. Aomine grabbed a tray of drinks just to make sure he went inconspicuous and took straight, purposeful strides toward the large, swinging doors of what he liked to call the final truth.

That was why his breath undeniably caught in his throat once he set foot on the other side. 

Soft music, cream colored walls and ritzy ambiance.

Round tables covered in pristine drapes were dispersed everywhere, with people doing little less evil things the tanned teen anticipated than eating.

Aomine stood there like a bump on a log, perplex and… quite disgruntled. Because even though he didn't have a clear idea of what to expect, something along the lines of ‘sleazy’ was at least on top of his list.

But standing there beside his friend taking a faceful of what looked like a lavish restaurant with wafting soft music and a freaking pond in the center, Aomine's shoulders sagged in net disappointment.

“It looks like it's just a restaurant, Aomine-kun,” Kuroko hammered on the obvious, much to Aomine's frustration.

“I can see that.” He gritted out, “but it can't be the end of it, damn it.” If he wasn't stupidly holding a platter of flutes, he would have curled his other hand into a similar fist.

“What do you mean?” The teal-haired boy wondered as they both started to move away from the kitchens' entryway and to a less visible spot. 

“I mean I still have the feeling this whole... restaurant thing's a sham. Akashi said this club's onto some weird shit one of them involving tattooing kids' members as a token of esteem. Doesn't that sound yakuza to you?”

“If you firmly believe so, why did you risk coming here then?”

“'Cause... I needed to make sure..." Aomine started, voice vague and unsure while Kuroko's big blues bore into him, “that Kise's father isn't part of this. Somehow.”

Kuroko silently studied his friend for a moment before nodding. "Then let’s start looking."

Aomine looked down at him and spared a soft gaze as a sign of appreciation. "Yeah."

And thus, they got on the move. 

The large room was exceptionally fancy and the same could have been said of its people. Everywhere their eyes met with classy gowns or swanky suits. Even the buzzing sound of their chatter and laughter felt opulent as it joined the soft thrumming of the band playing in one corner.  Some people were standing around in small group near the bar, others chattered with canapés in hands near the buffet table... Aomine felt like a stain in the décor. 

“Aomine-kun, there’s a double door over there.” He heard Kuroko say through his haze and focused back. 

"Where?"

"There." Kuroko pointed out with his head.

"There's nothing here. We gotta go there."

 Going through that set of paneled glass double door was easy. And that was because nothing was on the other side but a hall. Aomine and Kuroko padded silently as the buzzing of the restaurant side of the club faded with each step they took until they got at the intersection.

Aomine put down his plate on the ground and poked his head slowly around the corner. Kuroko did the same and they both saw a suited man standing tall and stock still next to a wooden door.

They turned back and Aomine spoke first in a hush.

“That’s probably the other part of the club. _Shit._ ”  

“What should we do?” whispered back Kuroko.

“I don’t know but I’m pretty sure _that’s_ what we’re looking for,” Aomine muttered in annoyance.

Kuroko stared at Aomine for a minute before his eyes steeled in resolution. “I have an idea but I will not be able to continue on with you afterward.”

“What do you mean?” Aomine frowned.

“I can distract him and you use the time to sneak in.”

Aomine hesitated. “What… what will you do?”

“I’ll just go to him, I’m thinking this is no place for boys our age to be so he’ll come after me. You go back and stand ready by the door. When you see us out, run for it, Aomine-kun.”

Aomine swallowed. “But what about you? What if he tries to hurt you?”

Kuroko smiled. “I don’t think he will and not in front of all those people in that restaurant area.”

Aomine acquiesced. “Fine. Just run straight to the kitchens and get out of here. If something happens call me, okay.”

“Okay.” Kuroko nodded, Aomine picked up the plate and they walked back.

The last thing Kuroko told him before he went back into the hall was ‘good luck, Aomine-kun’ before he got back in to drag the guard with him.

Aomine was still on the fence about it all being a great idea as he stood awkwardly by the door, trying to make himself as small as possible while waiting for Kuroko to dash out with the guy in tow.

After a few minutes, it happened. The door burst open and Kuroko came out running, followed by the guard. It went incredibly fast after that. He couldn’t even feel his feet as they moved on their own at a snapping speed, turning the sprint down that hall into a blur - because he saw it as his unique chance to finally know the truth about that place and if it really had a link with Kise’s father…

…With Kise.

And for the second time that night, his breath caught in his throat when he stepped on the other side of that guarded door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy, reviews are appreciated so tell me your thoughts c:

Dark hardwood everywhere his eyes landed, everything encompassed in soft lighting and a lush atmosphere.

The room was expansively vast, with table in various sizes dispersed here and there between damask sofas and armchairs which were busy with men in sharp dress suits, most of them smoking cigars.

Aomine felt a sudden surge of intimidation as he frowned deeply. The place oozed opulence and every laughter levitating in the air sounded mendacious to his ears.

His eyes too, were quick to catch the massive crystal luster that spiraled down from its four feet, shaped like a raindrop of tears, its brightness reflecting right inside the blue of Aomine’s eyes.

But he quickly caught himself and shook off of his daze. He started walking precariously along the wall, trying his best to keep a low profile within such a distinguished crowd. They were a few waiters streaming about, carrying orders from the bar set on one side of the wall, so Aomine felt a bit at ease knowing his white dress shirt would do the trick for a while.

‘A while’ was indeed all he had and he didn’t know how long that could last; so he activated his selective vision and begun perusing through the faces.

He didn’t know what to expect really. Sure, it worked and that place looked like the private club Akashi had told him about, Aomine thought as he gazed upon a section with polished hardwood and wallpaper walls that were littered with framed pictures. But what were the odds of him stumbling on Kise’s father? Or… some kid running about with a same-like tattoo?

The whole thing was insane. But it was about Kise; and it was leaning toward _dangerous_ -insane; so could you really blame him for acting so rashly by thinking he could just sneak into some peacocky private club that may or may not be a yakuza establishment that uses the kids’ members as token of esteem?

“Excuse me.”

Aomine’s blood froze along with his thought about esteem.

He turned his head to make eye-contact with the man he passed by.

He was seated in a garnet upholstered chair, circled with a bunch of other middle-aged men drinking and smoking.

“Bring us another one of these if you would.”

Aomine’s eyes shifted to the bottle. “Uuh, sure. Do you… want me to take away that empty bottle, too?”

The man looked at him.

“Sure.”

As he left, Aomine cursed inwardly with words he never had the chance to voice out yet. If the bartender or anyone recognized that he wasn’t part of the help, he would be tossed out flat on his ass and this whole crazy thing would be for nothing. And that wasn’t even the worst case scenario for if this place was really a yakuza joint, Aomine had watched enough movies to know what they did to speculative strangers.

Then his spiraling thoughts hit the brakes when he saw it.

A framed painting hung on one wall; bigger and larger than the pictures surrounding it and high above the poker table.

Stumped there amidst grinning men in suits drinking and smoking, Aomine stared upon a bigger, more detailed and intricate version of the black dragon Kise had on his right shoulder.  

The first thought in the back of his mind was _‘Kise, you bastard’_ for lying to his fucking face whenever he had asked him. Then worry.

Powerful worry that flooded his body from brain to heel.

Worry for his bastard friend. Worry for what the hell his idiot, _idiot_ friend was dragged into.

Worry for his best friend, his…

His lips breathed out— “Kise…”

He needed to do something.

Find something. More proofs - any proofs. He whipped his head left and right, every face he landed his eyes on unrecognizable.

The smokes of the cigars were getting potent in his nostrils.

He was running out of time before someone noticed him and it made him desperate. That was when his eyes fell on the first young-looking man of the room.

He was standing alone between two sofas. His hair was light brown, medium bangs split on the side above his forehead - one side falling above his eyebrow, the other tucked behind the ear. The rest of the hair was pomaded backward. And although he was wearing a suit, Aomine could see from his profile that he was pretty young. He also seemed to be shorter than the men around.

Aomine seized his options. He could stay around, inspecting the place, hoping to find something before someone found him - or he could smartly ask around and maybe get some answers no matter how small, much quickly and easily.

He just had to ask the right persons. And that short-looking guy, standing there doing nothing as if lost seemed like the perfect place to start.

Who knew, maybe he had one of those tattoo too, a sardonic part of Aomine mused.

“Excuse me.”

The young man turned around and indeed, Aomine was definitely towering over him. But his eyes, Aomine thought, they looked anything but lost.

His features were what you would call perfectly symmetrical, as if cut handedly with soft edges around his green eyes and lips.

But Aomine was quick to see those very soft eyes sharpen instantly as they scrutinized Aomine’s face openly. His lips stretched into a polite smile. “Yes?”

His voice was measured and soft-spoken.

“Uh, I… I was wondering if Kise-san was here tonight?”

The young man arched a thin eyebrow. “Who did you say?”

“Kise-san. Um, Kise Sudō-san.”

The young man now sized Aomine from head to toe in one single quick gander with a half-titled head before he settled his eyes back on his the tan boy’s face.

Aomine felt the palm holding the bottle sweat.

“Uh-huh, and who might you be?”

Aomine never racked his brain so rapidly in his life. “N—Nijimura… Shintarō,” his tongue articulated with a bit of strain that he hoped went amiss on the guy.

The young man took a moment to… just look at him - with some kind of wondrous, relaxed expression.

“And may I ask what are you doing here Nijimura-san?” he asked Aomine with another polite smile.

“I… uh, I wanted to talk to Kise Sudō-san about something… about work.”

“I’m sorry, there is no one by that name here. On the other hand, may I ask how did you get in here, Nijimura-san?”

“Uh, from the door obviously. I’m… I’m new in the staff,” Aomine lifted the empty bottle of cognac in his hand to complement his words.

“I don’t believe that’s the case as I am the manager of this place.”

Delivered as smooth as a bombshell.

“So I would know if any employees were added,” he finished with a serene smile to a gaping Aomine.

He saw how he cast the most fleeting glance at their surroundings before pinning back Aomine with his piercing greens.

No, it wasn’t ‘pinning’ per say for an outside observer would only see a composed and affable stature - but Aomine felt it in his gut now.

The subtle _empowering_ escaping from this guy’s trickery naïve image.

Then the young man smiled up at him again. “I would like to continue this conversation somewhere else. Would you please follow me,” and directed with his right hand to the side to show the way.

Aomine panicked. “F—follow you where?”

He kept on smiling. “Just my office.”

Was that code for basement with strapping chairs and men waiting with a tool box nearby? Aomine didn’t move a muscle.

“Please, I’m sure you wouldn’t like for me to call the security and make a scene as said security calls the police that will drag you handcuffed into a police vehicle, right?”

“Wait, wait, what?” what was this guy talking about? Police?

“I just want to understand everything in the calm setting of my office,” he said and showed the way again to an entryway at one far end of the room and from where Aomine could see more upholstered and more men.

He tossed a glance back to him still friggin’ smiling at him like the world’s most serene bhoutist, and decided that while he didn’t have another option anyway, at least he could take a look at another part of the club.

Be as it may, he was busted in any way.

Aomine let out a small sigh. “Fine.”

“You can get rid of that,” the young man said, nodding at the glass bottle in Aomine’s hand.

Aomine obeyed and put the object on a round end table close by that already held a long antic vase.

Another too-stretched smile and the guy walked them through another part of the vicinity that held another poker and pool table, as well as another bar.

Then he saw an arched staircase at one corner, it too, somehow guarded by a big, muscled man in a sharp, grey suit, and at another end of the room, a upholster door with a long, vertical handle, closed and with another bodyguard standing beside it.

 The way it was encased in a polished marble-like section in maroon and golden colors stood out from the rest and looked very dubious to Aomine but he didn’t have time to scrutinize for too long since they took the said staircase.

Still, Aomine gave it one last glance from over his shoulder before the whole room went out of view.

At least he was going up instead of down, the power forward thought. But his blood still tingled with a subdued fear despite everything.

Walking through a much quieter hallway now, Aomine finally saw what seemed to be the guy’s office.

Which was _also_ guarded by a man in a suit.

Aomine would have rolled his eyes at this point if it didn’t low-key freak him out.

“Take a sit, Nijimura-san,” the guy told him when they entered the seemingly normal office.

Aomine obeyed again.

It was a sophisticated thing too, albeit without all the dark wooden overall décor. The two armchairs facing the desk were leather black and said modern, glass office desk was behind a large window with folded paper blinds. Aomine minutely wondered what could be seen from it.

“Would you like something to drink?” the young man said, pointing towards a corner bar to his left. He had a slight smirk on his face while saying so that Aomine couldn’t shake.

As if he was in on some private joke…

“No, thanks.”

He took his place behind his desk, steepled his fingers and let a curt, smooth exhale the same way someone would clean his throat before a talk.  

“So I didn’t quite catch the reason why you’re here again?”

“I told you, I was just looking for a man named Kise Sudō.”

“And who might that be?”

“You would know, since you’re the manager.”

“I am. And I know that you lied pretending to be a waiter, which brings me to my next question of how did you get here?”

“Listen, you don’t need to freak out okay, I’m not some kind of spy or I don’t know what you think. As I said, I’m just looking for a man and I heard he visited this place. ‘tis all,” Aomine snipped and shrugged his shoulders.

The young man facing him cocked one of his eyebrow.

“Well, you broke into a private establishment, and that is considered a breaking and entering of private propriety, so you should understand why I would feel… the need to call the authorities,” he explained in a very poised manner, his hands still steepled, unwavering.

Dark blues eyes widened. “What—but I told you I was just looking for this man! Even if I did sneak into this place, there’s no proof that I’m a thief of something!”

“I know you’re not a thief,” The guy counterclaimed in pristine calmness. “I understood that the moment you came to question me,” he said with a simplistic smile.

Aomine stared in bafflement, mouth threatening to fall completely open.

And he finally felt it distinctively. How profound his luck was shitty to fall into the most uncanny guy he ever met in his life.

 “So the question is, _who are you._ ”

Not even a questioning tone.

For a moment, Aomine kept his mouth shut out of pure annoyance because people like that are what made the basketball player be even more bullheaded.

“I told you who I am. And since you don’t believe yourself that I’m a thief then I don’t see what you could hold against me.” Aomine riposted with his arms crossed, slightly puffing up his chest – a subconscious attempt to hide his defensive stance.    

Smile steadfast as if he could read it all, the manager said, “Well I do think that there’re still repercussions to trespassing into private grounds.”

“C’mon this is not the military barracks.”

“No, but it’s still an infraction of the law, and every infraction comes with a punishment. I believe it stipulate a certain amount of money for this type of case.”

That made Aomine quickly deflate. “Wha—what?”

“There must be some fine you’ll have to pay just to make sure. And I hope this doesn’t attract too much attention as the gentlemen of this club wouldn’t take kindly to a breach into their privacy. They will probably seek a bigger sanction such as jail-time or…”

Aomine visibly tensed at the mention of... prison?!.  “Wow, wow h—hold on a second!” Up till now, Aomine didn’t even mind getting dragged into a police car or even spend the night in the police station for this charade. He could survive it. But what he knew he couldn’t permit was paying some kind of fine. His parents spoiled him, yeah, but to a certain _degree_. “What do you mean ‘fine’? How… how much are you talking about?”

“If the patrons of the club don’t demand retribution for their breached privacy in court, I suppose around the one hundred thousand yen, otherwise I believe they can get you up to five hundred and fifty thousand if they deem it a first degree…”

“What?!” Five hundred and fifty thousand bucks? Court? Jail? What the hell? The ace’s head started to spin.

How would his parents react to this? And how would they deal with it if he was sentenced to months in jail?! That would affect his basketball team! Heck, he’d freaking get utterly expelled from Teikō!

“Wow, o—okay listen here, yeah I did sneak up inside of here but I was really just looking for Kise Sudō, I’m not some kinda threat or I don’t know what you think I am! I’m just a middle-schooler!”

For the first time the manager narrowed his green peepers though only for a second. Then they lowered down to some paper sheets on his desk and breathed out a sigh.

“I swear. I… I have no business in this club of yours…” Aomine’s fists clenched at his sides, hidden from view.

The manager lifted his gaze up to meet Aomine’s and pulled on another very polite, very obviously strained smile. “And I suppose you don’t carry your school ID with you now, do you?”

Aomine started to legit sweat. The air around the room was getting heavy and settled in the form of a knot in the pit of his stomach when inhaled.

“I don’t but here.” He reached around the back pocket of his pants and took out his cell phone.

He taped on it for a few seconds before stretching out his arm to show the guy a picture.

Now Aomine didn’t have a lot of those, but somehow, a few made it past thanks to Momoi who from time to time, without permission used his phone to snap pictures.

Like this one he showed off, of him, Momoi, Kise and Kuroko, crammed against each other, the sunset shimmering on the lake behind them on their way home.

“It’s Teikō high’s uniform. This trouser is actually from it,” he said while keeping his arm horizontal.

The manager’s perfectly groomed face didn’t so much as budge even though the dark-haired boy could see something akin to interest flint past those piercing eyes as one of them let out a twitch. Then those eyes met Aomine and he smiled anew. “Okay. Well, that’s good to know.”

The sentence made Aomine find the strength to huff a “Yeah,” and put his cell phone back. “So see, there’s no need for all that… money… drama stuff, right?”

The manager moistened his lips gracefully and smirked up at him in a conceited way that stirred awake Aomine's violent instincts.

The guy didn’t look that much older after all.

“I guess we can work something out since you’re finally being honest, Nijimura- _kun_ ,” he said, making sure the change in honorific rolled punctiliously off his tongue. Aomine could only swallow it and let his back relax against the armchair.

He grunted, “Cool.” But more than leaning back against the most comfy chairs his butt had ever sampled, he just wanted to get the hell out of that office.

“So… you must be… fifteen, am I right?”

“Yeah.”

“How did you manage to get here?”

“From the restaurant side, through a double door then a hallway.”

The manager furrowed curiously, clearly waiting for more.

“I snuck up from the garage door of the kitchens while they were busy unloading a truck.”

The manager watched him nonplussed.

“And… you did this alone?”

“Yes.”

A beat passed where the manager just looked at him. Then he smiled. “Okay, I’m glad we straightened things out, Nijimura-kun. But there is something I still find strange. You did all of this, getting inside a clearly age-restricted area, risking your last year of middle school and presumably your parent’s reputation - all for seeing a… man?”

Aomine stared at him.

The other rested his chin on his linked fingers and slightly tilted his head to the side, candid query in his greens. His lips parted and more softly than any words so far, he murmured, “Why?”

Aomine bit the inside of his cheek. For a minute he looked to the side mutedly. Then when he turned back, he found a much more mellowed look veered his way. The same one he saw when he had just accosted the guy back in the den.

The gullible look that lured him in.

“My friend… has a tattoo on the back of his shoulder. I always felt like he wasn’t being honest about it so I thought he could be in some kind of trouble… like yakuza troubles or somethin’.” Aomine’s gaze shifted sideways, still on the fence about spilling the beans to the guy. “When I heard his father was a member of this place, I thought maybe I could talk to him about it…”

The young man smiled. “You could have met your friend’s father more easily anywhere else. You can just say upfront that you wanted to check if this place really hosted yakuza.”

It was at that moment that Aomine saw how there was already nothing to salvage from this infiltration operation.  

“Maybe, I mean I wouldn’t know. I just wanted to see if I’d meet him here with some luck.”

“To check if this place is a yakuza business and see if his father was indeed part of it,” the young man completed, “well, that’s a very valiant endeavor I gotta say, but one thing I can assure you, is that this club is definitely not a yakuza… hideout or whatever your young, fructuous mind might’ve conjured up.” The guy smiled in an affable manner, “this club has hosted charities, anniversaries and some events all filmed by the media. And as you must have noticed, the restaurant side might be a bit selective toward its clients but nonetheless accessible to any proper civilian who wish to book a table.”

Aomine listened to the monologue with an unsatisfied frown. “Yeah but my friend has a tattoo perfectly similar to the official logo of this place, and the same black dragon is framed on your wall.”

The guy drew his shapely eyebrows sympathetically and attuned his voice to a mollifying timber as if conciliating a child. “Come on, Nijimura-kun, a black dragon in itself is something very recurrent around us. You friend decided to ink a black dragon on himself, this club’s logo is a black dragon and the Thai restaurant I enjoy getting my take-out from has a black dragon on their paper box,” he  humored him with a slight smile as he shrugged the big deal out it.

The power forward was left wordless for a minute. True, true, true, his mind scrambled, and he wanted to run his hands through his hair and mess it up and maybe even pull on it a little - but he couldn’t. Wouldn’t give the guy the satisfaction.

And he wouldn’t let this guy see or treat him as a brat with his pacifying tones and smiles just because he wore a suit and sat in a swivel chair.

“Mm, so these rumors about the members of the club tattooing their children to get money advantages are wrong too, huh?”

The manager’s features fast-forwarded to a series of expressions that went from squinted eyes to a raised eyebrow that ended with a smile that crinkled his eyes.

“You yourself are phrasing it like a disbelieving thing. I’m curious as to where did you hear such rumors.”

Aomine puckered his lips to the side the same way he did when faced with Brussels sprouts and his mother was adamant. “A source that kinda never been wrong. And internet.”

“And I’m sure the internet has many theories about the Pearl Harbor incident too,” the guy immediately tackled so smoothly you would think he had rehearsed this whole conversation they had. It really amazed and creeped Aomine out on the same degree.

Like a clean-cut robot, the back of Aomine’s mind thought.

Right about that moment, the desk phone rang.

The manager picked it up instantly before Aomine could even finish his robot-inkling.

A couple of seconds passed before a ‘mm’ was uttered; then a sigh. “Ah. Right. Tell him I had an important call to take but I’ll be right down, and serve him more whiskey.”

And he hung up.

Aomine stared at him as he linked his fingers above a paper sheet in a praying manner and returned his stare with a smile, his next words for him not much different in tone from the breezy way he handled that call. “Well then, Nijimura-kun, as you saw with your own eyes, there is nothing that farfetched about this club other than men bantering over cigars and brandy.”

Aomine blinked up at him at loss of comeback.

The way he talked, the way he stared – as if he held all the smart of the room leaving you second-guessing if one plus one really equaled two, never mind any allegations.

So Aomine clapped his mouth shut into a thin line, his shoulders slumping.

The manager softly smiled up and said in a confident tone, “I hope everything was cleared out. For the both us.” A pause. “Right, Nijimura-kun?”

“Mhm.” Aomine looked sideways, the depiction of disappointed.

“Well, then,” he stood up. “Since we have been honest with each other, I will let this infraction of yours slide. But you should understand that if something like this where to happen again, it will become a first degree trespassing _and that_ will for sure grant you a ticket to a juvenile center or worse.”

Aomine stood up as well as the shorter man continued, this time with slight, sharp edge, “And if you think you can get away from it with a good lawyer, know that there is no such thing around if any of those men downstairs were crossed. Trust me, I wouldn’t like to be in that situation myself.”

Aomine scowled.

Then the manager smiled and led the way toward the office’s door, “I hope you got that, Nijimura-kun?”  

“Yeah.”

The smile widened. “Good. Let me escort you out then. And this time, through the proper door.”

Aomine knew a snipe when he heard one, no matter how much subdued it was. But he let it slide in his turn because… what else he could do. He felt like a buffoon before that guy. 

They exited and backtracked downstairs, past the reception until Aomine found himself at the threshold of the formal entryway of the club, feeling the chill of the air seep into his bones as soon as he faced the outside. Three bodyguards stood around the door, giving him the onceover behind their silent posture, likely memorizing his odd presence.

The manager got his attention again by speaking out. “Well, despite everything, it was nice to meet you, Nijimura-kun. Really.” With a tiny emphasis on that last word that went over the basketball player’s head. “But I hope this wouldn’t happen again if you please. If you have any further questions feel free to… ask for me at the reception?” the young man lightly offered with little shrug of his shoulder-padded suit jacket.

Aomine let out a sullen “Yeah.”

“One last thing.” the managed took a few steps toward him so that the night air blew the strands of hair that were loose on his side, which he was quick to sweep graciously behind his ear.  “I will need to check your phone to see if any pictures were taken.”

Aomine blinked at him owlishly, the three beefy men eying him expectedly.

“Of the inside. It’s a private club after all,” he annotated with a pointed look ,“I hope you understand that it’s part of our deal.”

Aomine gulped as he indeed got the if-you-don’t-want-to-risk-a-few-months-behind-bars-point.

So like so many times that night, Aomine obeyed.

“I didn’t take any pictures.”

It was a quick task, since Aomine’s cell phone had only few pictures stored, so the manager smoothly skimmed through it and returned it back.

“Well then, farewell.” The young man concluded with what had become to Aomine, the guy’s signature smile.

And just like that, the guy turned on his heel, straight back disappearing behind the door’s lobby, leaving Aomine empty handed on the front door, without even a name to put to the face.  

“I’m just saying, with all that cash, you could buy five pairs of Jordans at least!” Aomine retorted, poiting at his childhood friend with the fry in hand.

“The only way Aomine-kun measure money is by Jordan shoes.”

The table broke into laughter.

“Of course Aho would have no sense of money!”

“Don’t start with me, Bakagami!”

Kise kept snickering beside the Tōō ace.

It was a peaceful evening in Magi Burger after a day spent hunting street courts. Since their new pact to get together and play basketball at least once a month, some of them found themselves meeting more often than not - like a habit that never quite died. And that was how Kagami and Kuroko stumbled on a certain ace and copycat entangled in an entrancing one-on-one. One of their specialties.

From then on forward, the occurrence of the two duos happened a few more times, joined by Momoi if she wasn’t already tagging along and had heard that Kuroko was around.   

And no matter how much some of them still clashed sporadically, there were always others to mollify the tensions.

“Oh, shoot, my car is around the block,” Kise piped up from the look of his phone. “Okay, gotta go-ssu,” he said brightly.

“Ki-chan, you really have to work even now?”

“No, it’s just some formal papers I should sign, the client had an unpredictable flight to take so…”

“Oh, I see!”

“Wow, you didn’t say your ride’s gonna be a limo, Kise,” Kagami said, looking through the glass window their booth was against.

All of them turned to witness the black limousine that had just pulled next the restaurant.

The model pursed his lip, chuckling. “Aww, that’s too much! I didn’t know about that-ssu.”  

“Waah, Ki-chan, so lucky!”

“Haha, you think?”

“Dude, you’re driving around in a limo.”

“I don’t drive around in it!” Kise pouted good-naturedly. “It’s probably the client’s or something. Okay then, see you soon~”

He stood up when Aomine grabbed his wrist. “Oi, where’s my dessert?”

“Huh?”

“You owe me dessert, remember?” Aomine pinpointed with a drawl.

“Eeh~ but Aominecchi, I can’t make them wait~”  

Aomine fixed him for a moment, unyielding. “Fine, but I want my dessert tomorrow.”

“Aominecchii so demanding,” Kise whined at him.

“Don’t care. Tomorrow. Don’t care if it’s lunch or dinner. I want my due.”

“Pfft, your due,” Momoi tittered. Aomine shot her a look.

Kise’s features softened and he smiled down at the tan boy still holding him by the sleeve. “All right, Aominecchi, you got it.” And only then did Aomine let go.

“Call me tomorrow then~” he called teasingly as he walked away, waving his hand.

“You call me!” Aomine yelled back before going back to his slumping posture on his spot and mumbling unassumingly, “Baka.”

“Damn though. So Kise’s really getting famous, huh?”

“Yep, he’s getting a lot of TV commercial deals recently and even got in the top ten idols of the year!”

“Wow, you seem to follow up his carrier pretty keenly. Are you a fan, Momoi?”

The pink-haired girl puffed her cheeks. “Ki-chan and I speak often, plus one must be blind not to see how famous Ki-chan is getting!”

“She’s right, Kagami-kun, I saw Kise-kun’s face in the subway today.”

Aomine turned his head toward the glass window, “Mmph, gonna pick one hell of dessert tomorrow, that’ll show ‘em.” he muttered between slurps of his drink when he suddenly spit it out against the glass, speckles of it landing on the Seirin player.

“Eww, _Ahominee!_ _What the hell?!_ ”

“Sonovabitch.” Aomine breathed as his eyes went wide and he shot up.

“Dai-chan! What did I say about—” But the pink-haired girl was cut by Aomine bolting out of the booth in a series of scrambled push and shove that threatened to sway Momoi off her chair.

Aomine tore through the restaurant and only stopped by the door to make sure he saw it right.

That a few feet away where the limousine stood Kise wasn't exchanging words with same guy who almost screw his life one year ago with talks of juvenile prisons.

But by the time he got outside the model had already climbed inside.

“Wait!”

The head turned toward the voice. A chill ran down Aomine’s body when they locked eyes, that familiar face clear under the streetlamp.

And with that chill came back all the forgotten questions and worries; the sense of foreboding and powerlessness he felt that night because this guy…

Aomine saw exactly when the flash of recognition passed across the manager’s face.

His eyebrow cocked and then much to his shock, smiled.

This guy—

“OI!”

He bent in his turn and disappeared inside the vehicle. Aomine started to run but quickly stopped for the limousine pulled out instantly.

—lied!


End file.
